Not Again
by ElectricLimeRose
Summary: "I can't believe I've done it again…" He told himself over and over. He scrubbed furiously at his blood-stained hands, even though it was a hopeless effort. "What have I done?" He could not even remember his victim. Who had he killed? The problem was, he did not know. Dark perspective of one of the YGO characters. One shot. Character death.


**- Fresh from ELR, here's a rather dark tale about the deeper, psychological issues in Yu-Gi-Oh. Sorry for not uploading for a while, I planned on making a Thanksgiving and Christmas story, but they both only got about half way done. :/ They might be extremely late, I don't know, if I even plan on posting them. Anyway, let's get on with the story. Strap yourselves in folks, it's deep and gritty. Don't forget to leave your reviews! **

**Not Again**

They say the most important step after committing a murder is getting rid of the evidence. One must make sure that every last shred of anything that could potentially prove their guiltiness is destroyed. However, it is difficult to do so when you cannot even remember how it even happened in the first place.

"No… No, no, no!" The blood just would not come off of his hands. No matter how much soap or water he applied, the dirty crimson stains remained; all up his arms, some even on his face, but mostly on his hands. Hands that he did not even control at times. Hands that had just unwillingly committed murder.

"Not again!" He grew angry at himself. This has happened more times before than he would care to admit. He would remember getting an excruciating migraine, to the point where his vision would become blurry. Then he would black out and not remember a single thing that would happen after that, until he became conscious again. This would be from anywhere between a few minutes to even a full day. He was in the bathroom, using the sink as his hope of cleansing his evil deeds and forgiveness. Panic struck him like a thunderbolt, shaking his nerves to his wit's end.

"I can't believe I've done it again…" He told himself over and over. He scrubbed furiously at his blood-stained hands, even though it was a hopeless effort. "What have I done?" He could not even remember his victim. Who had he killed? The problem was, he did not know. Sweat accumulated on his forehead, and his heartbeat raced. It was not fair. He had to take the blame for actions he did not even knowingly commit. Why him? Why must he be thrown in front of the bus? Stumbling out of the bathroom with still faintly stained skin, he ran a trembling hand through his blonde locks. His bright lavender eyes darted to and fro like bullets searching for their target.

"Marik…" Came a voice from the living room in the small apartment. It was almost pitch dark, the only light was coming from the moonlight creeping in through the windows. The only sounds in the air were harsh breathing and the faint ticking of a clock. He could see who called his name in the back of the room, but only by a silhouette against the window.

"Bakura…" Marik gasped, frightful it was somebody else. Somebody that was after him.

"It happened again?" Bakura said simply, in a way that proved he was used to this by now. He walked over to a nearby table and flicked on a lamp, flooding the room in sudden light. Marik choked on his words before he found the ability to speak again.

"Yes… I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't keep living like this, Bakura, I-…"

"Shh.." Bakura hushed him. Marik gritted his teeth and was about to say something to him before he heard a faint sound. At first it sounded like screams, getting louder by the second. Marik's eyes widened. They were sirens. Police sirens. Gripped suddenly by panic, he stood there, frozen. Both of the criminals turned to look out the window, and saw flashes of ruby and sapphire. The harsh lights almost blinded them, and Marik stood in the center of the room like a deer in headlights.

"Marik, hide!" Bakura ordered him in a hushed but very stern voice. Marik quivered, and tried to pick up his feet but failed to. It felt as if weights were planted on his feet to keep him from moving.

"They're coming to get you Marik, you better go now!" Bakura tried to warn him. There was a slam of a car door and the sound of violent footsteps up to the door.

"Come on, you dumb bastard, move!" He tried to save his friend and partner in crime. Marik gulped as an awful knot twisted in his stomach. What would become of him once they arrested him? He would try to explain to the authorities how he hears voices in his head and that they tell him to do these things, and that he had a complete alter ego that would take over his mind and body. That would most certainly have him taken to a psychiatric hospital, and if his conditions worsened, he would end up in a padded room in a straitjacket, left alone to be monitored the rest of his life.

"Marik! Please!" Bakura shouted at him. The door knocked forcefully.

"This is the police! Open up!" The officer yelled from the other side of the door. Marik closed his eyes and painstakingly walked towards the door. Bakura's jaw dropped as he witnessed his best friend about to turn himself in.

"What are you doing?!" He hissed at Marik, who just raised his hand at him, to signal he should just let it go. Marik opened the door and faced the police officer head on.

"Excuse me… ma'am?" The officer asked in a much less angry tone. Marik's eyes widened as he turned to give Bakura a shocked and quizzical look. Bakura snorted with a little laughter before mouthing him the words 'Just go with it.'

"Y-yes?" Marik replied in the best feminine voice he could muster. Bakura could not keep himself from chuckling very softly to himself in the corner of the room. People had mistaken Marik for a woman before, but this was downright ridiculous. He was standing right in front of the officer. Marik just hoped that he would not try to prove his gender by kicking him in a not-so-nice area.

"Have you seen a tall, tanned man with spiked blonde hair?" The officer asked, flipping through his notepad of witness descriptions. Well this was improbable. Nearly the full description of the suspect was standing right under his nose. The only thing that saved Marik from being violently thrown onto the ground and arrested was the fact he looked rather effeminate. Sweat beads rolled down his forehead as he answered with a dry mouth,

"No, sir, I haven't seen anything. I just got home from the movies," Marik lied through his teeth. The officer raised an eyebrow at him and scanned him. Marik smiled and moved his slightly pink hands behind his back. The moment seemed to drag on for hours. Finally the officer spoke, shattering the silence like glass.

"Alright… If you see or hear anything suspicious, please be sure to call the police. This is very important, and we need to track down this murderer. Have a good night," he nodded and turned to walk away. Marik closed the door and sighed in utter relief. He felt like collapsing right there onto the floor and passing out.

"That was a close call…" He muttered, his adrenaline still pumping in his veins. Bakura smirked at him and came out from the shadows.

"Right, see, your ass was saved because you look like a girl. And you thought that was a bad thing," he chuckled.

"Shut up… It's not over yet, you know. I still don't know who I've killed," Marik said, walking over to the couch and sitting down.

"Just relax. There's nothing you can do about it now," Bakura assured him. Marik was starting to become light-headed and exhausted from what all had happened in such a short period of time. The clock struck midnight and his eyes became half-lidded. However, he fought to keep himself awake. Figuring turning on the television would help, he reached over to grab the remote off of the table. Bakura joined him on the couch.

"You okay? You look tired. Why don't you go to bed," he offered.

"I'm fine, I—I need to stay awake," Marik answered, even though he did not know why he had said it. His body and mind needed rest, before they would start playing tricks and hallucinations on him. Despite knowing this, he refused sleep. He turned on the television and the first thing he saw was the local news. Marik's eyes widened as he heard the report.

_"Breaking news, there has been a murder in downtown Domino City tonight, by an unknown killer. Details prove he must have been very experienced, because there were very few witnesses, even though the streets were packed with people…" _Marik listened to the news report with guilt wrapped around him like a tight blanket. Then, he heard it. The name of the person he had killed, complete with an identification photo. Marik's heart sped up to dangerous speeds, and he was beginning to feel numbness in his limbs as he stared at the screen and heard the name over and over again like an old beaten record. Bakura was shocked and speechless as well. He turned to look at Marik slowly, stunned beyond words. Marik looked back into his eyes, as deep chocolate met shining lavender. Why had he done it? What perverse nature deep inside of him possessed him to do this? He was not quite sure why, but all he knew was that he was cursed. Cursed to never live a normal life, with no voices, with no headaches, with no demons within. No, this was his suffering. To forever live in a world where you were not sure if what you did next was really you, or someone else. To never know when you would just be shoved out of your own mind and be taken over by a complete force of pure evil. Now he had to live his life accepting this, and try to adapt his life around these obstacles. Now he had to live with the fact that he had just murdered a twelve-year old. Someone who was just starting their life; someone who had a promising future. That someone by the name of Yugi Muto.


End file.
